


To The Rescue

by butimnotdeadyet



Series: Nosy Team Flarrow [3]
Category: Arrow (TV 2012), DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV), The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: F/M, Gen, Guess who's turn it is, and its long, but the baes are back, depiction of injury, this one isn't as funny of as some others
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-11
Updated: 2017-09-11
Packaged: 2018-12-26 10:25:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12057039
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/butimnotdeadyet/pseuds/butimnotdeadyet
Summary: Barry didn't know what to expect when he ran over to the docks to round up a ring of woman-assaulting a**holes, but he certainly didn't expect this.Sometimes bad circumstance can lead to happy endings.





	To The Rescue

**Author's Note:**

> Dis: I don't own them, but i love them 
> 
> This technically fits in between Curtis and Felicity's stories, just so you know. 
> 
> (insert: subtle reminder that this story takes place near the end of 2016 and doesn't take into account all that much about the shows' closing and openings from last year)
> 
> The rating is up a little from the rest because of illusion to assault and someone is hurt; nothing too bad, just looking out.

You would think that in a city with a  _ known _ speedster vigilante, the criminals would eventually learn that  _ running away _ was not in their favor. But, in the long run, it did make it slightly more interesting for Barry if the suspects, this time the missing men from a three person assault on a dock administrator, tried to escape. And after a Friday night of little criminal activity (which he, as a civil servant, was truly happy for - just a little . . . bored) a pursuit was a gift gladly received.  

 

He had happened across one already, the leader that the caller had described - a big man and an even bigger upper body complimented by a collection of vulgar-looking scalp tattoos - lying prone at the opening to the centermost isle of warehouses and called back to Cisco to alert the cruisers that were rolling out to answer the call themselves before leaving him where he was and taking off down the same avenue.

 

It was strange that the caller hadn’t clarified that one of the men had already been dealt with, but Barry guessed was that since the call came in from a landline just inside the office building north of the property, she had given little more than the basic facts of the assault before hanging up to find safety. Either way, he still had two men to find and contain, hopefully before the uniforms showed up with sirens blaring. 

 

At first pass, Barry couldn’t make out any others in the area but he and Skull Tat, and it wasn’t actually until the third that he caught wind of another person. He couldn't see, but heard the sound a one - no, a pair - of hushed voices from between two of the large building on the strip, tucked into an alley darker than the rest thanks to the structures’ taller standing.

 

The only thing that gave the speedster pause from bolting straight in was that one voice, the second that he heard, that spoke with an edge that sent a chill up Barry’s spine, was female. The caller had been clear on two things: there had been three large  _ men _ and that she had been  _ alone _ . And Barry was willing to bet that a woman who correctly recalled the blue and black scripting around the first man’s bicep wouldn’t have misjudged her surroundings or her attackers. Which meant that the remaining men hadn’t been nullified by their failed attempt and had found another target to torment.

 

Barry could make out the shuffling of feet against the gravel speckled ground, and the sound of someone being pushed into the metal sheeting of the warehouses exterior with a resounding grunt. Barry peaked his head around the corner slowly but none of the lights surrounding running the length of the aisle were close enough to bleed into the space in front of him and those overhead were too strong to allow his own eyes to adapt to the limited light inside - he couldn’t see if the man, his shape  _ just _ verifiable compared to the smaller once shadowed against the wall, was holding one of the pistols that the original woman had mentioned. 

 

There was another shift, both the man and woman moving in a rush with an exchange of a firm demand to be let go and a hushed but insistent dismissal. Barry didn’t have a choice to wait. 

 

In a flash, he had the man tossed to the ground a dozen feet from the woman. 

 

The woman in turned slumped after the pressure was removed from her front, curving slightly towards the ground before bending at her knees to crouch against the wall, dividing the responsibility of holding herself upright with the building that she’d been forcing against.

 

Now in the alley, Barry’s eyes adjusted at superspeed. He gave the woman a once over in the second after releasing the man onto the asphalt: she was small with blonde hair, dressed for the weather in a knee length coat though one arm had been pulled almost completely free of the suede-like material. 

 

The man was making noises, like a grunt and a sigh, as he rolled to a stop near the back of the alley and shifted to his feet, fenced in, Barry knew, by a barrier of shipping crates on the far side of the bottleneck between the two buildings. Barry ignored him in favor of holding up his hands, palm out towards the woman.

 

“It’s okay,” he started, flicking through options in his head as to how best to comfort her, “here, let me help you--” He took a slow step forward, stooping lower in hopes of making eye contact, but her eyes were shrouded by the hair that had fallen when she curved over. 

 

“ _ You shouldn’t-- _ ” the man spoke from behind Barry, hissing as he did, but another quick flash to him and back had the man revisiting his spot on the ground. 

 

Another move, too fast and too close, had the woman flinching as Barry raised his hand to pull her collar into place again.

 

“ _ Don’t.”  _

 

It was her this time, whispering through clenched teeth with a glimpse of dark eyes through the strands of her hair. Barry raised an eyebrow in question, before remembering that his cowl was still in place, and almost moved on to asking directly. Until he glanced down again.

 

Her shoulder was . . .  _ wrong. _

It- it kinda looked like that time that the gym coach at his middle school had thought it was a good idea to try that parallel bars for the first time since college and wrenched his arm so bad that he was put on leave for the rest of the semester. Barry hadn’t thought, or wanted, to ask what the injury had been - not since the image was solidly ingrained in his memory - but whatever it had been, her’s was a dead ringer. 

 

“I told you, Barry. You shouldn’t try.” 

 

Barry froze, head stilling from where it had been pivoting between the woman’s face and shoulder, and he felt his blood rising in his ears. That dry, holier-than-thou tone. But Snart would  _ never- _ .

 

“You’d probably only make it worse. Best leave this to the professionals.” 

 

It was him. Barry turned with a snarl, zipping back to where he had thrown the criminal, pulling the man - that he now recognized without doubt, the smirk unmistakable - up by a grip on the front panels of his overcoat. 

 

“What the Hell, Snart!? Hitting up banks wasn’t enough, had to go for assault of an innocent?” The speedster decided that it was Snarts turn to be shoved up against a wall and obliged in doing so, accenting the move with more than adequate speed to knock the air out of the other man’s lungs. To think, he had almost been  _ proud  _ when Jax and the Professor had come home with tales of the Rogues on a ship of legends. 

 

“Far from it, _Flash_. I was being my typical _chivalrous_ self and assisting the lady with her condition.”

 

Barry met the thief's eyes straight on, looking for any hint of jest or lie, but found nothing of the sort. Instead, Snart looked reproachfully, working his fingers beneath Barry’s own and pried them free of his clothes before pushing past. The speedster’s hands were swatted away when he attempted to grab at Snart’s shoulder.

 

The woman, alone closer to the mouth of the alley, ground out a sigh as Snart moved closer to her and Barry watched as she adjusted with his approach. The guardedness that she had displayed with him melted away in parts: she straightened so was upright but remained pressed flush against the wall, not defensive, but balanced; her hand, the right that had been cradling the elbow of her wounded arm, came up to push her hair up off her face; and her head tilted back to rest against the sheet metal with her eyes blinking slowly before catching Snart’s fully.

It seemed pretty safe to say that Snart was not the one that put her in her current position.

 

“I guess we, ya know, actually need to do it now. . .” She sounded less than happy about the prospect.

 

“You were the one cursing me to damnation for trying earlier, Birdie. Not to mention snapping at the poor Hero of Central for trying to come to your rescue.” 

 

Snart reached forward now, running a hand along the side of her face in a show of . . .  _ affection _ that Barry had never seen him display - maybe Leonard was just a lot better at the whole comfort after trauma thing than he was?

 

“If we do this now, it'll be better in the long run.” He was already easing her hand the rest of the way out of the confines of the sleeve, baring her arm completely. 

 

“I know, but-” SHe wasn’t pleading, exactly, more like bargaining.

 

“Sara. Now. Barry will help if you want, I sure.” Snart’s eyes cut back towards where Barry was still standing. The younger man caught himself nodding without forethought.

 

“Of course, but I haven’t- Snart!” Secret identities were worthless if your nemesis outed you to any members of the public in proximity. And Barry relayed as much.

 

“Allen. I think you’ll find that this meeting is long overdue.” Barry was going to respond but Snart grabbed at the woman's - Sara’s - arm, causing her to growl under her breath as her forearm was pulled away from her body. “But introductions can wait. Grab her other hand.”

 

“Uh, okay. Why?” Barry did as he was told, looping his fingers around Sara’s free wrist and waited until her fist relaxed enough to cross their palms. He laid his left over them both for good measure.

 

“Because she'll likely break her own thumb for the distraction if you don’t. And since I’m doing this, you drew the short straw.” There was a little resurgence of the smirk when Snart said it, probably imagining if she were to break Barry’s in the stead of her own. Sara interjected with a hissed assurance that she ‘ _ would not, jackass’,  _ but clasped his hand firmly anyway. 

 

He couldn’t blame her, or Snart; Caitlin had replaced his own shoulder frequently enough for him to know that it wasn’t completely off the table - and he’d had the advantage of the surrounding tissue and ligaments knitting back together as well as they could even before the bone was socketed. Judging by the gaping in Sara’s shoulder, she was not as lucky.

 

Barry watched as Leonard leaned forward, close enough to be whispering in Sara’s ear if he so pleased, and started to press the arm back towards the wall slowly, keeping her elbow tucked above her hip with his free hand. Once the limb was at a wide angle to her torso and Snart wasn’t gaining any more ground, he moved her upper arm - shoulder and all - in an evenly paced forward roll. 

 

The whole time, Sara’s hand was locked in Barry’s and she didn’t make a sound. The grimace and the growls from before faded away until her face was calm and still, almost trance like if it weren’t for the small but forceful pressure of her thumb over Barry’s glove-covered knuckles and her eyes flicking between Leonard’s face and where his hands cupped over her skin. 

 

Barry knew the mechanics of a shoulder reduction - and had felt it first-hand thanks to Girder - but witnessing the ball and socket realign was going to be a different experience. Sure enough, one more unnervingly gentle maneuver from Captain Cold later and Sara’s shoulder was in place with a notable, grinding  _ pop. _

 

Leonard eased off but kept a hand beneath her arm as he made quick work off his own scarf and looping it carefully around her arm and neck to form a crude sling, settling the arm in its fold before freeing both hands to finish the knot he made in the length of soft looking fabric. As she accepted the weight of her arm back Sara sighed and smiled softly upward, first at Snart, who nodded slightly in return, and then to Barry.

 

“Thank you, Flash. I  _ may _ have done something I regretted if you weren’t holding me back.”

 

“No problem, glad I could help. But, uh, what happened?”

 

Sara opened her mouth to respond but was cut off by a biting remark from Leonard.

“You two planning on going steady, now, Allen? Oh, how Miss West must sigh.”

 

Barry blanked, shooting Snart a look of confusion before Sara let out a small laugh.

“I’m sure she won’t mind. Not after he was  _ so _ kind as to help me.”

 

Now Barry was truly at and loss. It still wasn’t until a moment later that Sara lightly tugged on his hands and he realized he was still holding her’s captive. He dropped it quickly and floated an apology that Sara quickly dismissed. Barry didn’t have to look at Snart to know that one member of their party was far from forgiving for his absent mindedness.  

 

“Well, a deal’s a deal,” Snart started and Barry’s narrowed his eyes, “If it answers you want . . . Sara, meet - officially - Bartholomew Henry Allen. Twenty-seven, CCPD CSU Tech and Criminal Forensic Scientist, nightlifes as Central’s most beloved scarlet-clad gray hat and my personal pain-in-the-ass. Barry, Sara.”

 

For a man that spoke mostly in quips, he sure could talk fast when wanted. Barry was debating booking it out of the alley in that moment - he already got enough crap from Joe about how many ‘civilians’ knew his real name - but Sara’s face made him pause. 

 

She handled this new information so calmly that he wasn’t sure that  _ any _ of it was news to her. But - Snart hadn’t told his own sister, surely he wouldn’t tell, well, her. She was standing now, no longer half resting along the wall, and drew to her full (still rather small) height before addressing Barry’s admittedly obvious concern. 

 

“Way to bury the lead, Len.” Her smile widened as she extended the hand he had just released, now angled to shake amicably. “I’m Sara Lance.  _ We have a few mutual acquaintances. _ ” She said the last in a whisper, conspiratorially, and after Barry digested her name and the words for a second he couldn’t blame her. 

 

In a heartbeat, he had his cowl shoved down and was shaking her hand with a vengeance. It was likely only the well time  _ tsk _ from Snart that kept Barry from dislocating her remaining shoulder. 

 

“So, you really did it; paired up with a bunch of heroes, Snart.” The pride that Barry had quashed was resurging and he knew it was showing on his face by the way that Leonard’s lip curled in response. 

 

“Not quite,” Snart rebuked, but a look from Sara had him equivocating, “but I suppose it  _ is _ a little close to call.”

 

Barry smile broke through before he remembered his leading question, as well as the reason of his presence by the wharf, was brought to his attention. 

“Wait, why are you here?”

 

“We were walking back from dinner -”

 

“Rizzo’s on Fiftieth.” Leonard butted in and was met with a startled side-eye from Sara until she nodded in acknowledgment and moved on.

 

“Right. But we heard some shouting and took a few . . . shortcuts. Happened across some meatheads right as a woman was hightailing it away from them. We  _ distracted  _ them long enough for her to put some distance between herself and them.”

 

“The big one was nearly on his knees before Sara even started in - just needed another knock to put him out. The trouble came when Tweedles Dee and Dum made a break for the rows.” Snart must have caught Barry’s straightening at the reference to the two remaining men because he immediately moved on. “We left them over across from the weigh station by the east gate, a little worse for the wear but contained.”

 

“I underestimated the, uh,  _ speed _ of the black haired one. He caught me mid punch and redirected me into a post. That’s what lead to --” she gestured over to her general left and drifted off. 

 

“Do you think they’ll stay put long enough for the uniforms to pick them up?”

 

Sara and Leonard both huffed a laugh and the latter responded with assurances that it was already taken care of: the cruisers had arrived in quiet and were already picking up their gifts, while Barry was completely unaware.

 

“Don’t take it personally. We’re just more used to  _ avoiding _ the sirens than you are, Barry.”

 

“Oh, right.” Between them an avenging, black widow-type and a career criminal - the numbers were in their favor for sure when it came to hiding from law enforcement. 

 

“But since you’re here, could you get this to the young woman?” Sara reached out and plunged her hand into the hip pocket of Snart coat, pulling free a rubber cased cell phone.

“I think she dropped it right before she plowed her knee into Big, Bad and Burly’s nutsack-”

 

“She had great form.” 

Sara smiled up at Snart again, eyes humor-filled at his concurrence. Barry chuckled and Sara treated him with a smirk of his own as she handed him the device before turning back to her teammate. 

 

“At least one of us did, Mr. I’ll Watch.” Barry knew he shouldn’t snort at the banter, but man, was he tempted. Instead, he busied himself with finding a place to secure the woman’s phone in his suit. He’d take it to her before heading to the house.

 

“I intervened when you needed it. Once he got a hand on you- ” He moved as he spoke, reaching out to her and pulling the right shoulder of her coat over so that it laid across the top of her arm seamlessly, with the scarf sling hidden against her chest.

 

“I know.” 

Leonard locked eyes with Sara for a moment before the woman turned her attention back to Barry.

 

“We’re going to make our way back to the bike. . .” The sentence hung at the end, and Barry caught the question in her look and nodded in response. Snart turned on his heel with an audible sigh and the three moved out of the alley and into the avenue. 

 

Sara fell in step beside him while Snart took the lead, bumping her good elbow against him as they walked, “You may want to suit up, there are cameras at the far end.”

 

Barry had known that, on some level - had taken note when he first cased the area - but had forgotten after the surprise meeting. He quickly righted the cowl and turned back to Sara with a smile.

 

“I’m glad we finally got to meet, though I may not have exactly looked it when you first showed up.” Thinking back, and knowing that the woman that had snapped at him had been the infamous Canary of the Glades, he probably should have been  _ more _ scared.

 

“Oh, no, I understand completely. I’m never that great of company when I’m injured and you were in a dark alley with Snart and no healing factor.”

 

“Aww, it’s not like he’s  _ bad  _ of company, not really-”, she smirked when she said it, eyes on the back of the man in question. Barry couldn’t say definitively whether he agreed or not, but he was getting the feeling that she could tell stories that would sway his alignment. 

 

“And while the arm was a mood killer, it wasn’t really what I meant.” Her eyes drifted down, following Snarts feet as they strode off at a faster pace than Sara and Barry were keeping - something that neither had any delusions about in regard to the intent. “He’d be annoyed that I’m talking about it, but we haven’t had the best night - separating my shoulder while punching out a sexual predator has been a  _ highlight _ .”

 

Her gaze cut to the side for a moment to - as well as he could guess - consider his reception. Barry nodded her on, letting his curiosity show by leaning in slightly as they walked. He didn’t think he imagined the gratitude that flitted across her features a moment later.

 

“He lied earlier, which was something new - to me, at least. We didn’t step foot in any Rozario's or whatever he said, we were at my mother’s.” Barry probably should have schooled his features into something a little more unassuming, but well, Captain Cold isn’t exactly someone you take home to meet the family. In fact, he usually breaks into your family home, steals your foodstuffs, and threatens to send the block into cascading thermal fallout. But if it was different for Sara. . . “And it didn’t go well.” 

 

A part of him was tempted to mime aghast, but the more sensible side won out. 

 

“How so? If I’m allowed to ask. . .”

There was a bitterness in her short laugh as she humored his modesty.

 

“He tried, we both did. But I should have known that going alone was best. This was only my second time seeing her since Laurel . . . And I needed him there, with me. But I wrongly assumed that she would take it better than my dad - well, that technically hasn’t been proven but you get the point. Apparently, her only living child showing up to dinner with her lover, a man that she had watched televise the kidnapping of a woman her daughter’s age, was a nightmare come true.”

 

“Uh, crap.”

 

Her lips ticked upward, acknowledging that there wasn’t a great number of ways to respond to that particular sentiment; and even fewer when the other woman was one of his friends. “He was sweet, too; brought a bottle of  _ legally procured  _ wine. If you count stealing it off a Confederate general in 1863 legal, that is; Len calls it downright  _ patriotic.  _ Which, coming from a man who hasn’t had the right to vote since he was 22, is an astounding conundrum.” Sara sounded like she was caught halfway between endearment and thoughts of murder, and it sounded like a draw. 

“That last one was a verbatim Dr. Dinah Lance quote, if you’re wondering. One of her colleagues over in the criminology department apparently did a case study on him with the CCU pre-laws a little while back. You made an appearance, so did Mick. But the professor couldn’t turn it into a staple component of the course because there was suddenly a distinct lack of substantiated history. . .” He knew she was looking at him. He pointedly ignored her. "It must have lead to a lot of info-heavy rants with my mother as an audience member, because she recalled a lot of the details."

 

“But the deck was stacked - and not by him, for once, which I would almost be pleased by if it weren’t representative of the only interaction that he’s had with my family - and she probably would have run him out of the house with a knife if I hadn’t told her that this was the only time I could see her while we were on leave from the ship.”

 

“I gotta say, I’ve thought about the Rogue’s love lives, but this, ah, puts some things in perspective.”

 

“He’s not just a Rogue, though. Not anymore.”

Barry couldn’t argue with that, not if what Jax and Martin had said was true. And he wouldn’t try even if he could, not one to argue with a woman who could kill him.

 

“When you tore into the alley and tossed him to the ground, I figured we were going to be treated with a rehash of the dinner conversation. Little did I know that you have more faith in him than anyone I’ve ever met.”

 

“I- he made it pretty clear that he was helping you. And it’s not like he’d ever-”

 

“I know, you’ve seen a different side of him before.” They could see the bike now, with Snart just freeing a pair of helmets from the saddlebags, one a gradient of silver-white to black with fine lines that formed abstract feathers along the side and the other with a charcoal matte finish with a deep blue interior. Fitting.  

“With you and some of the team back home, I guess there’s a chance that I  _ won’t  _ be completely excommunicated once Ollie and my dad find out about us. That is . . .  _  if  _ you’ll be on our side.”

 

“I don’t really think this is a question of sides, Sara, but I understand. From what I’ve heard about you, you can more than handle any of the shit that being with him may throw your way.”

Sara’s eyes brightened when he said it and she reached out to catch his hand with a squeeze for a moment before moving to accept the helmet offered to her. He didn’t even try to avoid the glare from where the older man stood at the bikes handle bars, meeting Cold’s scowl with a smile of his own. 

 

While Sara busied herself with the helmet - realistically a two hand job, but she worked at it like a point of pride - Barry moved to stand beside Leonard.

 

“She doesn’t want to admit that I was right about bringing the one bike.” There was a smile hiding in the bravado, but Barry didn’t push it. Yet.

 

“Ah. Did you at least let her choose which?”

 

“Let? Sara? She  _ scoffed _ the first time she saw my Harley.”

There was a beat of silence as they watched Sara mash the carbon fiber onto her head with more force than usually necessary. 

 

“So. . .”

 

“Careful, Allen. Don’t ask any questions you don't want to know the answer to.”

 

“I just- I’m not supposed to tell anyone, right? Even if this would totally prove that I was right about you from the get go?”

 

“ _ Careful _ , Allen. Don’t say anything that will end this pleasant evening with a bullet through your spleen.”

 

“Come on, Snart. It’s a little funny that  _ you _ , of all people, are dating a Star City Canary. Add in the whole ‘saving the world via timeship’ thing and people are going to give themselves an ulcer trying to put you in a box now. Not too good, not too bad.” That was received with more than a little sneer from Leonard, but was volleyed by Sara chuckling from on the seat behind him.

 

“Keep humoring yourself. Say hello to Detective West and the rest of the STAR Labs circus, will you.” And with that, Snart let loose the throttle. 

 

Sara shouted out a muffled ‘Goodbye!’ as the pair peeled away from the curb, waving her good arm at him as they passed.

 

He waved back, remembering a beat later that he had one exception to the guidelines they laid out.

“I’m telling Iris!”

  
  
  


In retrospect, he probably should have waited until Iris finished, or at least put down her  _ very hot  _ mug of cocoa on the coffee table before blurting out his news. It’s okay, it not like seconds degree burns took that long to heal. For him. Joe, on the other hand. . .

 

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, Sara's shoulder is both dislocated and separated but there isn't a fix for the latter besides rest and healing so. . . And if you don't think Len can reset a shoulder, I'm sorry you're wrong, bc I can guarantee that Mick Rory has punched a wall and lived with deep regret while his buddy looked up how to fix it.
> 
> Yes, Laurel is dead in this reality. At least for now. And Flashpoint was a bad dream. That is all.
> 
>  
> 
> Some things are a little out of place but I obviously have no self-control and can turn a 2.5K fic into 4.6 K, so congrats, you now have access to my headcanons about helmet colors, Dinah Lance, and whatever else wormed its way in.
> 
> Comments and the like are always welcome and appreciated!  
> Much love,  
> Gin


End file.
